Ze Ning was originally going to meet Hai Ling, but Liu Yin never easily comes to the Qin Wang mansion. If he has come, there must be an important matter!

  Liu Yin sat at the table, dressed in a dance costume, with a snow-white bell tied around his waist. When the wind blew, it seemed he could start dancing, and the bell would jingle softly. His attire was surprisingly enchanting and alluring, making him look like two words—"bewitchingly beautiful," with a touch of wicked charm. Sitting at the table, he didn't appear rough or unrefined; instead, he exuded a strange allure, a captivating charm that made people's hearts.

  "Finally, I get to see you. It's quite difficult to meet you." Liu Yin zily leaned half of his body against the wall, with half of his long hair not tied up. A strand of bck hair fell over his eyes, making him look particurly enchanting and captivating. "I need to go to Miaojiang for a while. Help me ask the emperor for leave."

  Zé Níng raised his eyebrows in surprise. Liú Yīn was always busy, yet strangely unproductive—now he wanted time off? He was going to make a difficult journey to Miaojiang? Wasn't he the one who most loved comfort and enjoyment? Why would he go to Miaojiang, enduring the rough journey? What was he going for?

  "Don't ask me what I'm going for. Just grant my leave." Liú Yīn could tell from his confusion, but his voice remained zy and rexed. He zily raised a finger and waved it in front of Zé Níng. "I'm leaving, that's it."

  Zé Níng blinked in disbelief. He was leaving—just like that? He suddenly understood: Liú Yīn was going directly to Miaojiang! Right now! Why? In that moment, he glimpsed a light he had seen before, a familiar attachment in Liú Yīn's lowered eyes. Realizing it, he understood why he was going—because the princess had come from Miaojiang! Once he understood, he smiled faintly.

  Liú Yīn, half-asleep, gnced at him. "What are you ughing at? You know?"

  Zé Níng said nothing. He patted Liú Yīn's shoulder, acknowledging his request.

  The emperor’s personal performer couldn't just take leave so easily, but it was rare for Liú Yīn to be serious about something. Once he reached a decision, there was no turning back.

  ------

  This short conversation between Zé Níng and Liú Yīn had, despite its brevity, used up the only half-hour of rest he had remaining. By the time he saw Liú Yīn off, it was already close to dawn, time to go to court.

  This time, it seemed destined that he wouldn't see Hái Líng. As he had Xiao Bì change into his court robes, he thought, why hadn't Hái Líng come? Was she sick? Or had she been upset that day?

  Hái Líng wasn't one to lose her temper with him easily; Zé Níng knew that well. It was more likely that she was self-bming, but why hadn't she come?

  By the time he was on his way out, Hái Líng still hadn't arrived.

  ------

  She hadn't died.

  When Hái Líng woke up in the morning, the first thing she felt wasn't anger, pain, or hatred—it was ughter. She hadn't died. Who had told her that biting her tongue would lead to death? Now she could ugh and tell herself that biting off her tongue wouldn't kill her, not even causing pain.

  Stumbling to her feet, she walked to the mirror to look at herself.

  Her hair was disheveled, her face covered in blood and dirt, and her clothes torn, making her look like a vengeful spirit.

  So ugly. That was the only thought in her mind, empty as it was.

  Last night, that person treated the wound left by the severed tongue. No wonder she didn't die or feel pain. The treatment likely came from some highly effective medicine. He had even reset her misaligned bones, which expined why, although her whole body ached, she could still move freely.

  She checked herself over, then looked around.

  She narrowly escaped being raped by someone who resembled Zé Níng. She didn't know who that person was, and she firmly refused to believe that it had been Zé Níng.

  Absolutely impossible!

  Though she survived, biting off her tongue had rendered her mute—a silence that would st for the rest of her life! Suddenly, she felt an overwhelming sense of despair. Why had that person saved her? Wouldn't it have been better if she had died? It could have been her salvation—preserving not just her name but the st fragments of her dignity. She had never truly understood Zé Níng's feelings. She had only cared for him as a normal person, someone with an advantage—until now, when she had become a mute. Only in that moment did she fully grasp the depth of Zé Níng's pain and despair.

  Such calm could only be born from battles no one else had seen—wounds endured in silence.

  He was never self-conscious because he had immense courage. Stripped of speech, she found dignity a daily struggle—harder, perhaps, than silence itself.

  She hated the man from st night. She loved Zé Níng, and never before had she loved him as she did in that moment, nor felt so near to his soul.

  ------

  The sun was high in the sky.

  Zé Níng returned from the pace, and for the first time, the Four Powers and Five Sages had never been so coordinated. Because of the epidemic in the pace, Yù Xiū had even taken the initiative to consult him on matters, discussing possible solutions. Róng Yǐn had also slightly reined in his arrogance and could calmly discuss things. Of course, Shàng Xuán was unwilling, but with Liú Yīn absent and Tōng Wēi uninterested in the matters, Zé Níng knew what was right and what was wrong. He cooperated, and Shàng Xuán had no choice but to accept it.

  After all, with so many lives lost, no one could ignore it, and Shàng Xuán was also deeply concerned.

  As soon as he returned, he immersed himself in reviewing the list of people who had entered and exited the pace that day, completely absorbed.

  A delicate click broke the silence.

  Zé Níng looked up and saw Hái Líng walking in, dressed in casual clothes. Normally, she would smile and say, "Young master, change your clothes." But today, she didn't.

  Today, she seemed to have undergone special grooming. She wore an ecru embroidered dress, with a silver hairpin in her hair. Her face had even been powdered.

  Her complexion, which was originally a bit yellowish, now appeared snow-white, and the powder only made her look even more delicate and charming.

  She smiled as well, but there was something slightly different about her smile.

  She was not someone who usually cared about her appearance. What had happened?

  What was going on? Zé Níng almost felt a kind of sorrowful beauty radiating from her.

  She was still Hái Líng, but she no longer seemed to be entirely herself.

  Had her memory returned? Zé Níng raised his hand, intending to expin the truth to her, but then he suddenly realized—she still couldn't read.

  Hai Ling didn't do anything strange; she just didn't speak, quietly walked in, silently took off his official robes, and quietly helped him change into casual clothes.

  He couldn't ask anything, only feeling confused as he allowed her to arrange everything.